


Treacherous Waters

by ParadifeLoft



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Politics, Vanyar - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 08:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2222712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadifeLoft/pseuds/ParadifeLoft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As planning for the War of Wrath commences in Valinor, Elenwe discusses diplomacy and the Vanyarin succession with King Ingwe's sister.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Treacherous Waters

**Author's Note:**

> So to be honest, this fic is largely an exercise in self-indulgent toying around with obscure headcanon and OCs I don't get to use very often. It's not the most accessible thing in the world, and it would be rather impossible to fix that unless I were to turn it into a multichapter piece of a good several several thousand words. If you're still interested, then...
> 
> Several things about my headcanon regarding the Vanyar that are important to make this intelligible: Ingwion is not Ingwe's direct biological child, but rather was adopted as Ingwe's son (along the line of Ancient Roman dynastic adoptions) for purposes of succession when Ingwe did not at the time have a child of his own. His natural parents are Ingwe's sister Nahámenis and her husband, who are also Indis's parents. However, Ingwe also has a biological daughter, Ingorie, born substantially after his adoption of Ingwion. Finally, the Vanyar’s political structure is more horizontally organised than just vertically, such that siblings of the king etc. are also given rank comparable to his nuclear family; for lack of a better translation then, both Ingwe’s sister and his wife are referred to in English as queens.

"Ingorie is unsubtle as a child. Truly, Elenwe, could you see our people accepting kindly her taking the place of my brother's regent?"

Elenwe raised her eyebrows, twisted her mouth in a considering look. Nahámenis sipped at her cooled citrus tisane. "Do you think that a likely necessity? My parents for example I cannot imagine being pleased, but simply because she is the king's natural daughter does not seem reason enough to alter his choice of heir after so many years. Of course, you know him better than I."

The queen had not been smiling before, but let it not be said that the Minyar did not distinguish many subtleties of expression that might be otherwise grouped together in a simple split between smiling and not. Then again, it was not a question of ignorance, but of desiring opened words; and such was known to both of them.

"You know as well as I that the Outer Lands are dangerous," Nahámenis replied. "All the moreso during war. Ingorie is her father's child and since you are young I shall clarify that I mean not in the manner of our king on the mountain slopes, or at Lord Thúlimo's feet. Surely you have seen her often enough surrounded by those my brother has chosen as his generals."

_Since you are young_. Oh, of course; and had Elenwe misplaced her sense spending so much time among the Ñoldor she might have shown her displeasure on her face - well, displeasure, bitter amusement, something of either. But among the  Ñoldor she had spent many years in Tirion's libraries; among the Minyar she had studied for a time under several schools of bards. Illuminating as any history told by the queen would be, she was of no mood to acquire it through condescending barbs.

"So - what is it? You imagine your son is threatened by the plans for war?"

The queen's eyes grew cold, her face still where a lesser woman's might have held tension. Nahámenis had played this game for far too long for that. But she rose, at least, porcelain still in hand and the window's shadows sketching geometry of light and dark like faint ink upon her skin. Elenwe rose as well; impolite to not follow, not when this afternoon was at the queen's invitation.

"My grandson is not particularly inclined to listen to me in this matter, you know. He prefers to take my brother's word, to be a _peaceful_ king, to be unconcerned by the matter of his people in exile save for direct intervention by the Valar… save for where you have intervened." Elenwe heard the words left unspoken, lying just below the surface of a deceptively open-seeming mind. _This is your war. You have posed a problem to me. Fix it._

Elenwe had her doubts that this hallway - any hallway - of the palace was precisely a suitable location for this discussion. Or at least a suitable location for her own benefit. The queen assuredly felt differently. But better to take care of such issues as they arose, rather than living amidst so many hypotheticals and probabilities she might start to think she had found herself once again among her friends from the university. And plotting was Hyellinde's preferred leisure activity, in any case.

"As you say, your highness," she finally answered. "I shall speak to Arafinwe on your behalf."


End file.
